A Christmas Car Ride
by mangafangirl
Summary: Robin remembers the way that his family used to celebrate Christmas, and wonders what has happened to the holiday spirit.


**A Christmas Car Ride**

Robin opened his bedroom door and closed it behind him. Walking over to his closet, he kicked off his shoes and placed them neatly on the rack. He removed his scarf and his earmuffs, and put them on the shelf. Returning from the snow fight outside, he was so chilled and his hands were blue with internal frost. What must have been ten pounds of white snow covered his body from head to toe. After wiping it all off for his carpet to absorb, he grabbed a robe from a hanger, and tightly wrapped it around him. "That's better," he said to himself. He grabbed the remote for his CD player and pressed the "ON" button. His rock music came in a loud blast, ringing his ears- not what he needs right now. The player held three CDs; the other two were R&B and rock. Neither suited what he wanted to hear.

He switched to "Radio" with just a swift move of his thumb. More rock. He pressed two more buttons; R&B on both stations. Was there anything to listen to? Silently growling to himself in the cold room, he kept switching stations. One station after another had music totally un-fit for this time of the year. And Christmas _was _just a week away. What happened to all of those wonderful stations that played Christmas music non-stop during the holidays? Just like when he was a child...

Robin went over to his dresser and pulled open a drawer. Sifting through a layer of junk, he finally found it. He pulled out a journal; one seldom used. Looking as if it was just newly brought, it had a red leather cover. The clasp was gold, with a golden key to match sticking out from the pages. On the cover, the words "_Remembering Heart_" were written in gold, matching the clasp. Robin took the key from the pages, which seems to have left its imprint on the paper. He slowly put it into the keyhole, and turned it. There was a small _click,_ and the clasp opened. He opened the book as it made a crippling sound like stretching leather, and fingered through the pages. There were only a few entries, four to be precise. They were of times when Robin didn't have anyone to go to with his problems, not even his friends. And who understood better than a blank page, waiting to be filled with emotions of every kind? That was just it; a journal is the ultimate choice of a listener.

He went to his desk and sat down in the leather office chair. Resisting the urge to swivel, which he got every time he was in one of these things, he held the book down with his palm to keep it from closing while he got a pen. Ten seconds later, he finally put the pen to paper and began to write.

_December 18, 2006_

_Dear Journal,_

_I know that I haven't been here in a while. I'm not really one that you would call an "expressive" type. But I feel that what I have to say is worth writing down. Lately, I've been wondering. About a lot of things, actually. But no matter how many villains I fight or how much we need to fix the Tower's heating system, this one thing won't go away. _

_Curiosity._

_What I mean is...what happened to the Christmas spirit? That little spark inside of a person's soul that, whenever the holidays were even mentioned, would light up into an enthusiastic flame? There just doesn't seem to be a reason for the day anymore. _

_I remember when Christmas was actually a loved time of the year, and not just for the presents. When I was about four years old, life seemed simpler. Like those winter car rides. Times when we'd go out; just me, Mom and Dad. I'd climb into the back of the car and get into my baby seat while mom buckled me in. And then she'd get into the passenger seat, while Dad took the wheel. Doors would slam, the key would turn, and an airy hum of the heater would fill the car along with the smell of the seat leather. After a few minutes, the frost from my window would melt away._

_Off the car would go, and I could feel the wheels roughly climbing over what felt like mountains of salt. Like pebbles in the road trying to keep us away from ruining the snow angels that kids had made the previous day, or at least that's what I used to think. Mom would turn on the radio. Nothing but Christmas music would be playing on every station, and you could feel the holiday joy in each song. I'd be kicking my legs and wriggling in my seat while the classics came on:_

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire  
Jack Frost nipping at your nose  
Yuletide carols being sung by a choir  
And folks dressed up like Eskimos

Everybody knows some tofu and some mistletoe  
Help to make the season bright  
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow  
Will find it hard to sleep tonight...

_With the music in the background of my mind setting the mood of every moment, I'd daydream. What TV shows came on when I got home? Should I play with the neighbor's kid or stay home and make cookies with Mom?. When coloring Santa, should I make his outfit red, or violet for spunk? Even for a four year old, that is a lot to comprehend, yet my imagination never did allow rest to take place, and neither did I. _

_I'd take my hand and hold it up to the car window. Taking off my mitten, I'd feel the cold air from the world outside the car by pressing on the glass, and then I would let my arm slide down slowly, seeing how gravity would affect it. It's funny how a child such as myself would do these sorts of things, especially since I didn't know that gravity even existed. It must have been that natural curiosity again. Anyway, I would do this for minutes just to pass the time. At least until it started to snow. I'd notice one white star, then another. Soon an army. They were all falling from the sky so slowly, yet when one would hit the window it would seem to crash and melt. They came from all directions it seemed; up, down, left and right. And then the song started playing, right on cue:_

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,  
Just like the ones I used to know,  
Where the treetops glisten  
And children listen  
To hear sleigh bells in the snow

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,  
With every Christmas card I write,  
May your days be merry and bright,  
And may all your Christmases be white

_And as soon as the song finished, the car ride would be over. Doors would open, the key would turn, and the roar of heat that I had been so used to would become silent. Mom would unbuckle me, and we were on our way to the mall to see Santa Claus for yet another year. _

_So what I mean is, what ever happened to that spirit? The joy of simplistic things; the love of just a snowflake and the familiar smell of the car leather? Why can't people today slow down and realize that these things still exist, even if they don't see them? I'd love to go back and have one of those car rides again so that I could feel the things I used to and hear the songs that set the mood for how life should be. But you know what? It's never to late to go back to the things that we once loved._

_Yours, R.G._

With a great idea instantly laid out ahead of him, Robin closed his journal, locked the clasp, and stuffed the key back between the pages. He ran to the dresser, opened the drawer, and tossed the book back inside. He went to the closet and grabbed his shoes, earmuffs, scarf, and jacket. Putting everything on in a frenzy, he ran out to the living room and looked out of the windows. Perfect; everyone was still outside playing, and now it was snowing! He hurried out of the front door.

As Starfire noticed him coming over, she cried out in elation. "Wonderful, Robin! You have finally decided to join our game! What managed to change your mind?"

Robin, flowing with anticipation, just replied, "I thought that we could all take the car...you know, for a pizza or something."


End file.
